


Pledging Loyalties

by fullofwander



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Murder Mystery, Possessive Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 09:37:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19354351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullofwander/pseuds/fullofwander
Summary: Harry has never paid much attention to the boy in the dorm across the hall, until a chance meeting one night brings them face to face. Suddenly, Tom Riddle is everywhere Harry turns. But Harry doesn't have time to decipher Tom's wicked gaze and fickle words--he's too busy trying to infiltrate a secret society causing havoc on campus, and worrying about a venomous snake that may or may not be murdering people.





	Pledging Loyalties

Harry drug his feet across the damp grass, head hung low, slowly making his way back to his dorm room. The night wrapped around him like a velvet blanket, warm and dark and stifling, the few windows still lit appearing oddly stifled. Harry couldn’t see another living soul anywhere.

 

He tapped on his phone display, the too bright light causing him to blink rapidly and squint. The time read just before 2:00am. No wonder the campus was so eerily quiet.

 

He’d spent the better part of the evening camped out in the library, trying to make sense of his chemistry notes. He was notoriously bad at the subject, and Professor Snape’s seemingly personal hatred of Harry kept him from asking for more help. He sighed out loud and wondered idly what he could do to rectify his grade. Maybe Hermione would be up to helping him decipher his notes, if embarrassment didn’t stop him from asking. 

 

A sudden rustling in the nearby bushes startled him out of his thoughts, and he jerked around to peer suspiciously into the dark. Damn, he’d ruined his night vision checking his phone. Still, he thought he saw blurry movement. Of course, it could be his notoriously bad eyesight playing tricks on him. He pushed his round glasses up his nose, trying to get a better look. 

 

There! In the narrow space between two buildings, something was moving in the foliage. 

 

“Hello?” he called, heart suddenly pounding in his throat. “Is someone there?”

 

The rustling stopped for a moment, before resuming in an almost frantic matter. 

 

Harry didn’t know what to make of it. He wiped his palms on his jeans, paralized with indecision. What if it was a rabid animal? What if it was a  _ hurt _ animal? What if it was a person? What if it was someone who needed help? 

 

Harry took a step forward, more concerned now than wary. Most people might’ve turned and walked briskly away, the faster the better. But not Harry. Hermione called it his “saving people complex”. 

 

He paused again as more flailing came from under the leaves. 

 

What if it was a mugger who liked to lure unsuspecting college students into the bushes before stealing their meager food allowances? Harry gave himself a mental shake at that. Now, that just made him feel stupid. 

 

It was at that moment that he heard something that may or may not have been a growling noise, followed by a distinct and loud hissing sound that startled him so badly he actually jumped backward. Of course, it’s just a couple of cats fighting! 

 

He stood there for a few moments more, but the bush had fallen silent. There were no more odd sounds, and no more disturbing rustling. 

 

Harry breathed out an exaggerated woosh, suddenly feeling silly. That’s what he gets for letting his imagination run wild at 2 in the morning. He laughed out loud at himself, rubbing his hands over his tired eyes and back through his unruly hair. He turned purposefully away, now more awake than before, and continued to make his way back to his dorm.

 

Just to be safe, though, he decided to take only the brightly lit pathways. No more dark cut-throughs full of suspicious noises for his mind to play tricks on him with. Fucking hell. 

  
  
  


 

Harry yawned as he hauled himself up the stairs, his jaw cracking with the strain of it. Keeping to the streetlights had added some time to his walk, but it had been worth the peace of mind in the end. But it meant that by this time he was so ready to crawl into bed that he found himself a little slap happy. Which explained why he didn’t see the other boy coming down the hallway until Harry ran into him, practically smacking his nose into his bare chest.

 

“Oh!” Harry wheeled back a step. “I’m so sorry!”

 

A firm hand caught Harry around the wrist, steadying him before he could stumble to the ground.

 

“It’s alright. You should be more careful though,” the other boy answered in a deep, rich voice. 

 

The kind of voice that felt like soft fur running over your skin.

 

Harry shook his head in consternation and tried to focus himself. He recognized the other boy as the one who lived in the dorm room opposite his and Ron’s. Tom, he thought. Tom...something. 

 

Tom had never spoken to Harry or Ron before. He’d barely even registered their presence apart from the occasional nod when they came out of their rooms at the same time. In fact, Harry couldn’t remember ever giving the other boy much of a thought before tonight. But now, standing in the hallway at what must’ve been close to 2:30 in the morning, Tom was very much the center of his attention. Tom, with his frigid blue eyes, dark curls, and...damp skin. Very damp skin. 

 

Judging from the low-slung sweatpants and towel hanging from his neck, he’d just come from the communal showers. 

 

Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away from a water droplet tracing it’s way down Tom’s pale, muscled chest. He didn’t remember Tom ever looking this broad across the shoulders with a shirt on. He swallowed thickly, watching as Tom’s muscled abdomen flexed as he breathed, as he spoke.

 

“Sorry, w-what?” He stammered.

 

The hand around Harry’s wrist tightened minutely before relaxing again, but the brief flash of pain made Harry suck in a surprised breath. 

 

“I said, you never know who you’re going to run into when you’re not paying attention.” Tom’s tone was genial at the surface, but Harry thought he caught a current of annoyance hidden beneath. “You should be more careful, especially this late at night.”

 

“Right,” Harry responded absently, pulling his wrist from Tom’s oddly scalding touch and holding it close to his chest. If he’d been more alert, he might’ve felt chastened at Tom’s tone. “Sorry. Again.”

 

Tom inclined his head with a small smile, before brushing past Harry to open his own door. Harry couldn’t help but turn, watching him over his shoulder. Sensing his gaze, Tom turned back to lean out of the open doorway, his bicep bulging as he propped his elbow on the jamb. The room was dark behind him, the shadows seeming to come forward and curl around the edge of Tom’s form. 

Harry wondered if they would suck Tom into the inky black.

“Did you need something?” Once again, Tom’s tone was polite. But Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that it was...false.

 

He shook his head, seemingly unable to speak past his fuzzy mind.

 

Tom tilted his head to the side, studying Harry as if he didn’t quite know what to make of him standing there and gawking back at him. 

 

“Goodnight, then,” he finally murmured, dismissing Harry and his odd behavior.

 

The closing of the door in his face jolted Harry back to the present, where he groaned in embarrassment. He turned back to his own door across from Tom’s, cracking his forehead into it before digging out his key.

 

As he crawled into bed, he couldn’t help but think of Tom’s eyes. They were beautiful, that was undeniable. Deep and as dark as the sea. But...there was something...empty about them. And as Harry drifted on the waves of sleep, he tried not to think about how bottomless they seemed.

  
  
  


 

“Mate, did you hear about that girl last night?” 

 

Ron plopped unceremoniously into the seat next to Harry the next day at lunch, Hermione following close behind.

 

"No, what girl?" Harry asked, setting the sandwich he had been dolefully picking at back on his tray.

 

“You remember Myrtle Warren? Kind of annoying wierdo that wouldn’t leave you alone that one semester? She was murdered last night!” He punctuated his declaration by tearing a large bite off his own sandwich, grinning around the bread and meat.

 

"Charming, Ron,” Hermione rolled her eyes, watching her boyfriend with unconcealed displeasure. “And she wasn't murdered. She was attacked by a snake." 

 

Harry’s interest was piqued. "A snake? Here? In the middle of campus?" 

 

"It's unusual, granted, but not completely unheard of," Hermione replied, looking doubtful at her own words. 

 

"Well I was talking to Dean, who said Seamus overheard a cop say that the snake had to be pretty venomous, and that they suspected foul play!" Ron said.

 

"Foul play? From a venomous snake?" Harry asked, confused.

 

"Seamus and Dean reckon someone's got a pet that they've trained to carry out their dastardly deeds," Ron continued, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

 

"Dastardly deeds? Honestly, Ron,” Hermione interjected. 

 

"Hey, those were Seamus' and Dean's words, not mine!"

 

"Still, what? The police think someone set a killer snake on Myrtle? I wonder why." Harry remembered the girl. She had been annoying, following him around and making it clear that she liked him. A lot. But one day she was gone, and several weeks later Harry spotted her relentlessly following around some other poor sod. Still, Harry didn’t think that was enough to want to kill her over.

 

"Well, I wonder who would do such a thing. But honestly, you two shouldn't gossip about it. A poor girl is dead. Let's try to have some respect for her, instead of turning her death into a zoo, so to speak. And let the police do their job." Hermione unfolded her napkin with a snap, clearly done with the topic. 

 

Ron and Harry exchanged a look. If someone was controlling a murderous snake, this was hardly the last they were going to speak of it. But they let the conversation drop. Instead, Harry brought up something else that had reluctantly been on his mind.

 

"Hey, have either of you met the bloke in the room across the hall?" he asked.

 

"Not really. Isn't his name Tim something? Why do you ask?" Ron replied around a mouthful of crisps.

 

"Tom, I thought. And no reason. I just ran into him last night on my way in." 

 

"Tom Riddle. He's a poli sci major like me. We've had several classes together," Hermione said, her tone sharpening. “He’s completely brilliant, but he mostly keeps to himself.”

 

Ron looked at her with raised eyebrows.

 

“What? He and I have crossed paths in your hallway once or twice.”

 

Ron shook his head, turning his attention back to Harry. "What time did you get in last night, mate? When I went to bed you still weren't back."

 

"About 2:30 in the morning," Harry replied absently, chewing on the end of his straw. His thoughts circled around the mysterious Tom Riddle. He could imagine Tom, sharp-eyed and poised, debating Hermione across a hall of glassy-eyed students. Hermione had called him brilliant, and she didn't dish out the word lightly. It made him wonder what else he was missing apparently right under his nose.

 

"2:30 in the morning?! Harry!" Hermione looked shocked at the admission, though Harry didn’t understand why.

 

"What? I lost track of time studying in the library! I thought if anything you'd be pleased!" He said. Beside him, Ron nodded in agreement.

 

Hermione pursed her lips, looking at the two of them in exasperation. "While I'm glad you are taking your studies more seriously, you have to be more careful! Remember Myrtle?!"

 

"I thought you said we were going to leave that matter up to the cops?" Ron responded.

 

"We are. But you two have to promise me you'll be more careful until it's all been sorted. Promise?"

 

Harry and Ron turned to share a look, and when Hermione saw it she smacked both of them on the arm. Hard.

 

"Ouch! Alright, we promise!"

 

 

 

Harry slumped onto his bed at the end of the day, exhausted after another round with Professor Snape, and stomach rumbling in protest. Maybe he could talk Ron into taking them somewhere else besides the dining hall for dinner.

 

Ron wasn’t too far behind in returning to their shared room, Hermione in tow.

 

“Here,” she said, smacking Harry in the stomach with a rolled up newspaper. “Read this.”

 

He took it from her and unrolled it. 

 

“Local college student dies from snake bite,” he read out loud, before being drawn into the story. Hermione sat in one of the desk chairs and crossed her legs, waiting for Harry to finish the article. “There’s not a lot of information here, Hermione.”

 

“Yes, well, what it does say is that the investigation is ongoing. If it had been just a local wild snake, they would have deemed it an accidental death and moved on already. But from their wording, I’m inclined to think Dean and Seamus were right.” Hermione folded her arms across her chest, looking worried, before continuing on in a pointed tone. “And did you see what the estimated time of death was?”

 

Harry  _ had _ seen it. Myrtle died between 1:30 and 2:30 in the morning. Her body was later found in the bushes between two buildings close to the library, a spot Harry knew he had passed by the night before. His thoughts turned to the strange rustling he had heard in the bushes. It couldn’t have been Myrtle, right? Surely, he hadn’t been there as it was happening, hadn’t come so close to sharing the same fate? 

 

His stomach clenched. He wouldn’t have been able to help her, right?

 

He rolled the paper up and handed it back to Hermione, determined to not think about the night before.

 

“Let’s go get a curry, yeah?”

 

 


End file.
